


Destiny's Bakery

by lnterplay (orphan_account)



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Commissioned fic, F/M, M/M, Multi, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Polyamory, have mercy on characterisation please, riku owns a bakery and sells paopu fruit pasteries among other sweets and breads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-23
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-23 01:51:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4858628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/lnterplay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <span class="small">Riku owns a bakery that incorporates Paopu fruit into the pastries. It’s a hot couples location, yet one particular duo seems to enrapture Riku.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="small">Commissioned fic.</span>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Destiny's Bakery

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kinkyriku @ Tumblr (2015)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Kinkyriku+%40+Tumblr+%282015%29).



> slight revisions, no beta. pardon errors.   
>  apologies if characterisation is distorted in any way.

It was sunny the first day.

He was sweating. Everything in his bakery was nice and warm, yet as a result, so was _he_. Tourists basked in the sun along the beach, cooling off with a treat and hand outside, plastered against the windows at shop-side tables underneath the parasols. Riku stood, stripped down to a white shirt that was nearly sweat-stuck to his chest underneath the deep blue of the apron he donned. Silver hair tied back haphazardly, he was using a flimsily folded piece of newspaper to fan himself down.

At first, he’d caught a wiff of cinnamon, followed by a sweet, springtime citrus, in accompaniment to the chiming of bells at the front glass doors. Both had swung open ferociously in greeting of two giggling customers. It struck his interest.

It was an odd combination, Riku had decided. But it wasn’t a bad one.

They made a good couple; the best he’d seen in awhile.

The second had been less of a mishap. Chocolate mess of spiked hair bobbing in, dragging a more timid soul behind in his wake. Riku had gotten a name that day-- one name. Surprisingly, it was that of the quieter of the two, per introduction; Kairi. He’d thought it fit.

“She’s been nagging nonstop about this place since yesterday, _y’know?_ ” The exuberant brunette had mentioned, not leaving any room for either of them to talk after he’d so brashly announced Kairi’s existence. He threw a hand up faux exasperation, waving it around in a way that had Riku’s gaze hooked around his wrist, sliding down his arm, making a mental note of every curve of muscle presented to him, and Riku had made a mental note that perhaps he would make a good sparring partner. A small grin had found its way to his features. On any note, he’d followed up with a crude, “She moaned all night about how good the bread was.”

Kairi had smacked his arm, but adjusted from foot to foot, balancing her weight. The pink on her ears dissipated easily, which was rather reassuring that she didn’t seem too genuinely flustered at the offhand remark. Riku had made another observation that she was strong, herself, in a way that Riku didn’t want to play-fight.

A power couple.

Riku had wanted to see more of them both.

The third encounter was exactly one week afterward. When three days had gone by, Riku had wondered if they would come in again. He found himself missing their stark juxtaposition, and the way they so oddly fit together anyhow. They hadn’t looked like tourists, but, after so many travellers from all over who’d ventured for a treat from his shop, perhaps what _was_ and what _wasn’t_ typical of a local had just become a blurred standard. The fourth day, Riku had almost burned his hand in a daze, pulling a new cinnamon accented Paopu pastry treat out of the oven. The fifth, he’d mourned never asking for the other’s name; never getting the girls number; fretted doing all the things that _most_ people shouldn’t do when having met anyone only twice. The man took a day to himself on the sixth, decidedly washing his mind with seawater, letting their images fade away with the salty breeze. He’d been shot down by a frisbee in his daze, but went back to work the following day with his head held high, completely focused on his tasks.

When it had been almost time for lunch, Riku began cleaning up the place. He’d been wiping down the counter, the old fashioned register, ran the cloth over his hands a few times. It was much cooler outside now, the wind heavier.

It made it easier for the heady, aromatic smoky-sweet scent to ram straight into him unexpectedly, with the alerting chime falling behind the speed of smell. He had doubled over the counter in ill preparation, like he was no different than a kid getting caught red-handed stealing from the cookie jar. Pausing, he’d raised a hand to wave, lifting the wash rag with him, then hid it in one of his apron pockets abashedly. The smile he had gotten from the brunette made it worthwhile, anyhow. It had eased the embarrassment right off his shoulders.

That time he made certain to get a name, taking it and marking it down for an order. _Sora._ That, too, seemed to fit, reflecting the shorter’s deep blue eyes that glinted safely with warm rays of the sun. Riku’s cold, sea green eyes had softened in response. Kairi had nudged herself against his side gracefully, making it impossible for Riku to focus on either one of them more. The three had stood there, chit chatting away. Multiple times Kairi had nudged Sora’s arm, and occasionally the exuberant teen would laugh, or shyly rub his neck in apology. These were the little details Riku honed in on; the minute differences in their behaviour that seemed more like two streams of the same current than anything. From first blush it felt like they’d known each other a while, that they’d only continue to know each other more-- completely, intensely. An unreasonable piece of Riku was jealous. Sora wrapped an arm around Kairi’s waist, the way she would laugh quietly rather than bat him away.

Her advances after that left Sora to stare in another direction, at Riku, as warm grin stained his visage. It had made Riku want to listen, rather than listen in the politeness that carried with his job. Kairi, too, had prompted Riku to participate in conversing. Before he’d realised, above the jealousy of their relationship, Riku had felt more and more like he belonged; like he was welcomed.

That, and he’d just spent the entirety of his lunch break speaking with them from behind the counter. When he had fetched the sweets they’d purchased, the couple waved their way off, and Riku was once again left with a burning pit of disatisfaction churning in his gut.

They’d returned again the next day, appearing a little more different. Just an inch more mischievous, more dishevelled, more _something_. Kairi had had a hair out of place, Sora had looked dazed. Riku had felt a little awkward, a little envious. He had chided himself for the feeling, while handing over their order. They made little to no small-talk, Sora haphazardly nibbling on his bottom lip, Kairi fiddling with the hem of her skirt. It had been to his delighted, confused surprise, that Sora had handed him the money for their pastries, wrapped in a thicker piece of paper. Sora had winked, before the two exited the shop. The rest was history.

There hadn’t been much on the note. Just a name, and a number, scrawled across the surface in dark ink with sharp edges. Riku had smiled to himself, thinking the chicken scratch handwriting was more amiable than anything he’d ever laid eyes on before.

He had waited until after closing to pull out his phone and shoot the number a text. Instead of an electronically-received reply, Riku had received a call instead. Caught off guard, Riku had floundered for words the first couple seconds after gracious greetings. It was Sora who’d divulged his preference for talking, and how texting hadn’t been his strongest point. He was a very vocal child, all his words had to have a specific sound to them, sounds that were encumbered by mere shapes that were meant to spell out what he was saying. It soon became another endearing part of Sora that Riku enjoyed wholly.

They’d chatted for an hour, Sora mentioning that Kairi thought Riku was, word for word, “a big, _hot_ hunk.” Riku had wondered if Sora was just extremely confident in himself, or if he’d misread his relationship with Kairi entirely.

“Neither of you are too bad, yourselves,” Riku had tried commenting on the sly, but instead a question chased his statement, pursuing eagerly, a newfound excitement drifting through Sora’s receiver.

“Really? You think so?”

Logically, Riku had known that he couldn’t be seen through the phone, even if there were a camera, with how tight it had been pressed to his face, stuck to his cheek with the most miniscule amount of perspiration. Despite this, he’d shrugged in response, hand fiddling with a few silver strands of his hair, freely cascading down the back of his neck now that he was able to untie it, the workday having ended long ago. Riku had shivered, “Well, you’re the most unique couple to ever stop by the shop.”

He’d swallowed hard, the end of the line going dark.

A soft chortle broke the silence, and butterflies swarmed in the pit of Riku’s stomach. “She’d enjoy hearing that--! But, you know, from you.”

At the end of the night, Sora had made an effort to send Riku the number for Kairi’s cell, but she’d been the first to send a message to Riku. It had been a brief encounter before bed, but the next day, when Sora and Kairi made their rounds through the bakery, the two of them seemed to exchange more words than they had before. Kairi had appeared to open up more to him, with a little nudge from sora. Every inch of Riku wanted to scream in the respite.

It had gone like that for another week, the physical visits focused more on talking. Sora and Kairi had inquired about positions available at the shop, not a pair for working but still needing an excuse to stop by so often without buying something daily.

A momentum for their friendships had seemed to develop, until Kairi had asked Riku out.

_Well,_ Riku mused, it _may_ have been his mind playing hopeful tricks on him. In fact, the jest appeared even more prominent when Sora arrived, on cue, holding hands with Kairi tightly, almost like a child on his first day of kindergarten.

Riku prepared to feel like a third wheel. But he hadn’t.

They had gone to see a movie. Nothing fancy; an old flick from the 80s, shown at an equally as antique theatre. It was shown once a month, the neighbours all knew it by heart. Riku wasn’t one for films, so it was his first time, but he enjoyed the show, if not the fact that Kairi and Sora flanked either side of him. Later, the trio went out to a pizza parlor for food, gushing about the plot of the movie and the actors; things like, where the stars went, and how they are now. Riku had thanked them both for the night, trying hard to avoid commentary on how eccentric it was to invite a third person on a date. Sora had averted his eyes toward the street outside the restaurant, and Kairi had looked aghast.

Sora, admittedly, was never good at communication when it came to important things. Kairi threw that tidbit of information out there to the sharks, and then tacked on how it was supposed to be his part of the “team effort” to fill Riku in on the blanks.

Sora had only munched on his pizza, grease lining his lips like a balm, glinting with the mixed reflection of artificial lights and red, setting sun. He had swallowed, grumbled, and Riku had furrowed his brows in response, an pursed his lips.

Kairi had sighed that, as per usual, she had to be the one to break the news. Her eyes rolled exasperatedly, and she leaned over the table. Riku swallowed, feeling a little cotton-headed at her movement.

“We’ve been flirting with you for the last, well,” She had begun, and tapped impatiently on the table, looking for the words. Riku’s attention drifted toward Sora in the silence, who had abandoned the half-eaten slice of pizza to participate in the conversation more fully.

He flared a nostril. “It was like a game, but you didn’t respond to, like, _anything_. Even after I gave you my number.” It it were anyone else, Riku supposed it would sound like a bitter reprimand, but from Sora, all it sounded like was a soft amusement.

Riku had sat dumbfounded at the whole ordeal, trying to process where it was going. Kairi had piped up after taking in the confused expression on Riku’s face, and declared matter-of-factly, “This is a date. You’re on a date. D - A - T - E. All three of us are.”

Only then had it sunk in that not only one, but _both_ of the odd pair were interested in him. And, instead of driven away or weirded out, the sense of ease that washed over him was holy and grandiose. There wasn’t a way to decipher it, he’d thought. He just had known that if push came to shove, there wouldn’t have been a way for the baker to make a decision.

It was a surprising development, but it was welcomed nonetheless.

The rest of the date had passed with ease, and after chatting around the rest of their pizza; let’s face it: three young adults could scarf down more than any other demographic; they split the check, and had stepped out into the brisk night that awaited them. They’d trudged down the sidewalks pressed tight to each other’s sides, already making plans for another night out, heading toward Kairi’s apartment complex first, after the group had decided she lived the closest to the pizza parlor.

For apartments, Riku had thought it was a pretty nice place.

Not too big, one apartment easily housed a family of three, and the number of people walking around outside in the dark was low. It felt guarded, and safe, and definitely didn’t appear the same way the apartments he was used to had. He had stood outside the front door of Kairi’s place, and almost wandered off somewhere in result of his high-alertness. He wondered if he should give the other two some privacy. It would be weird to watch them part ways for the evening with a kiss, but he wanted to guard them from an advantageous spot. To his continual revelations, Kairi had beckoned him in first, before even batting an eyelash at Sora. He felt his neck go stiff when he leaned over, Kairi’s petite hands feeling just that much smaller against his broad shoulders, holding him in place. As she reached on the tips of her toes to wrap her arms around his neck, his previous suspicions of her muscular, yet lithe build were confirmed, and he sighed into the hug. When she’d turned around, she and Sora had no trouble kissing goodnight, just a small peck before Kairi escaped behind the off-white door to her home.

Sora, in contrast, had lived in the neighbourhood a few blocks away from Kairi’s apartment. The rest of their walk had been pretty silent. Sora had amused himself with puerile merriments, balanced on the edge of the pavement’s curb, with hands that sought purchase against the palmtrees that were placed methodically every few feet from each other down the street. Riku had diligently kept an eye out for cars, but this side of town was just inherently quiet at night, it seemed.

In contrast to Kairi’s farewell, Riku was the one who had pulled Sora in for a hug. The ball of abundant joy only opted to bury his face in the taller’s chest, inhaling deeply. Riku’s arms had instinctively, lightly, encircled the teen.

There were small differences in how they all treated each other.

Riku seemed to like the way those differences filled different needs he never knew he had.

“You smell like the sea,” Sora had mentioned briefly, and then quickly added on how it was weird that he did, since he was around breads and cakes and Paopu fruit all the time. Riku laughed, following the drift of his logic halfway, though mostly because he wasn’t surprised that such a scent emanated from him. Instead, he’d returned the comment by remarking on how much Sora reminded him of apple-cinnamon treats. Sora shot back instantaneously that he’d _accidentally_ used his brother’s shampoo that morning. He didn’t like how distinct it smelled. Riku raised a brow, but chuckled lowly at Sora’s assertion of the fact that, he might naturally smell like cinnamon, but the apple was definitely not his doing.

When they’d pulled apart, Sora turned to open his door with a cheeky smile on his face, and a contentedness in his eyes.

“See you tomorrow?” He’d said.

“Yeah.” Riku had acknowledged, his answer ghosted on his profile with the tender mirth that painted him. “See you.”

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on tumblr.   
>  i pay more attention to tumblr than this, so, if you liked it, reblog it, mayhaps.
> 
> [**Destiny's Fruit** | _lnterplay_ on Tumblr](http://lnterplay.tumblr.com/post/129721578605) // [**commission information**](http://kinkypika.tumblr.com/post/129392149894)


End file.
